Making sure you're safe
by Melissa Samuelsen
Summary: After finding out his friend is homeless Dean puts Cass up in a hotel. The hunter visits regularly, seeing the place as an escape from the troubles at the bunker/Sam
1. Chapter 1

When Dean got the call from Cass he was shocked. When he found out his friend was in Idaho he was confused. But now that he's standing here, watching as the former angel cleans the slushie machine he's downright baffled. How in the hell did 'an angel of the lord' end up working in this dump? Flipping his cell phone over and over in his hand he watched the man he once admired bustle around the empty gas station. It took some time for it all to make sense, even longer to accept it as reality.

After finally entering the minimart, and busting Cass's chops over the career change, the two friends talked things over. He had to hand it to Cass, even with his wings clipped the guy had an eye for hunting. It sounded like something he should look into. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed Cass with him on this one.

"Come on, man." Dean begged, handing Cass a stack of cups. "It's your case, you found it."

"No, it's a case for a hunter. I'm not a hunter. I'm Steve, associate at the 'Gas n Sip'."

"This ain't you."

"It is now." Cass stood up with a sigh. "Dean…I can't….." The look on his friend's face stopped his words. Puppy faces had that effect on him. "Fine. I get off in a half hour. I'll just go to the scene with you, but that is all."

It was a pretty normal case, as cases go. Dean got his man with some help from Cass, and Cass still had time to babysit for Nora. After everything was said and done the pair sat in the Impala arguing once again.

"I said no Dean. And that's final."

"Final my ass."

"I'm grateful for your help with Tanya. And for coming up here for Rit Zein. But this….."

"There is no way I'm letting you go back there. You're sleeping on the ground for God's sake."

"My sleeping bag is rather comfy."

"Oh, great. It's settled then." Dean wrinkled his nose the way he did when he was frustrated.

"Sarcasm. Your usual defense mechanism."

"Very perceptive, Cass."

"And there it is again." The former angel sighed. "If it will put your mind at ease, then I will relent."

"Don't do me any favors." Dean stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Cass was stubborn, almost as much as the hunter was. Yet it still surprised and frustrated him every time. Stupid Cass, giving the poor man ulcers no doubt. "Ya coming?" he called back to the car, making his way to the hotel room he just rented.

A moment later Cass followed, the few belongings he owned in his hand. "This is unnecessary." He mumbled looking around the room. "I can manage on my own."

"Just drop the macho 'I'm human so I make my own rules' crap. You're staying here, end of story." The hunter flopped on the bed, closing his eyes. "I'll sleep better knowing you at least have a roof over your head."

The sentiment made Cass smile. It was nice to know that even though he had messed up so badly he still had Dean. "I can't pay for this."

"Got it covered. Use the card on the table. The blue one is for food and stuff."

"Dean..I…" Cass stopped himself. "Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning the pair parted; Cass back to his new job and Dean back to the bunker. The drive back for the hunter was stressful. Not only did he have the issues with Sam dancing around his brain now he has added Cass to the mix. So many balls were in the air, it was only a matter of time until they would fall down around him. He sighed, turning the radio up and singing along with AC/DC.

Things would be easier if only Cass could go with him. At least part of his anxiety would be eased. Then again it could make things worse. Cass would get into everything. Not to mention Zeke would freak out. "Come on Bon Scott. Sing to me, baby." The music wasn't drowning out his thoughts like he'd hope. Turning up the volume a second time didn't help, just gave him a headache.

A few days passed, and Cass did the best he could keeping in touch with Dean via the cell phone he was given. _Text at least once a day, let me know you're…ya know still breathin'. _ Those were Cass' instructions. He wondered if he was allowed to call, but didn't want to press his luck. Dean obviously still cared about his wellbeing and that was enough for the former angel.

What started as a few short 'I'm alright' and 'Burned dinner, but still ok' texts turned into full length conversations. It surprised Cass just how much they had to talk about. It seems distance makes for a great friendship reviver. On the nights he'd babysit for Nora he and Dean would spend the entire night texting each other. Sort of felt like all of the distance he had caused to come between them was gone. He still longed to see his friend, to be in the presence of the 'righteous man' again, but he knew his place. Dean needed him here, in Rexford, so here is where he would stay.

The nights Dean was away from his phone, either hunting or dealing with Sam, Cass found himself seemingly lost. Sure he would watch TV or read (he had become fond of novels featuring Sherlock Holmes) but it still felt like his room was to quiet, and to large. Long walks around town tended to fill these times. Luckily they were few and far between.

A little under a month after he started staying at the 'Sunshine Inn' Cass got the nerve to ask Dean a question that had been plaguing him since he had last seen the hunter. It was a straight forward and simple question; one that didn't require much thought. But it did take Dean far too long to respond. Almost a full day of constant worry (and mixing up the decaf and regular coffee Cass blamed on his nerves) before he got the familiar chime that meant his friend sent him something. The message on the screen was a simple 'sure, why not'.

That very night Cass cleaned the room in a hurry, not that it was messy after all he was neat as an angel and it sort of carried over, anxiously waiting for Dean to arrive. It had been far too long since they had seen each other and he wanted to make sure everything was as his friend would have expected.

"8:30. He should be here." Cass paced around the room, thinking aloud. Dean said they would meet up at eight, go out and get a drink. But he's late. "Dean is _never _late." Time ticked by and he grew only more worried. "Should I call him? I should call him." The phone lay in his hand but he couldn't bring himself to dial. What if Dean was just stuck in traffic? Calling him would make him angry. "I don't want to upset him."

Cass stared at his phone watching as the clock changed from ten fifty-nine to eleven oclock. He willed it to ring, to buzz, to chime, to do something other than remind him that Dean wasn't there. "Have I been stood up?" He looked out the window hoping to see the Impala pull into the space. But he saw nothing but the dark of night.

He gave up. It was late and he was scheduled to open tomorrow. Pulling loose the tie he had bought just for this occasion he sent Dean a short message. He placed the phone on the table, locked the door and turned in for the night. Moments later he heard the buzz of Dean's reply. It would have to wait until morning, right now Cass hurt in a way he had never experienced before and he didn't want to make it worse.

Dean waited and waited for Cass to text him back. Surely the guy would be upset. But it's not like it was Dean's fault exactly. They had a hunt. Lives were at stake. He _had_ to stand Cass up.

He stopped washing Baby and just stared for a moment. "Dude, it's not like it was a date." His voice echoed off the garage walls. Cass didn't think it was…did he? "Nah. Don't be stupid." Still…he should have replied by now. "I guess I'll call him. Son of a bitch."

"Dean." Sam called from the door just as Dean made it to the passenger side. "Kevin thinks he's got something." The elder brother didn't respond. "Dean."

"Yea yea…I'm coming." Dean looked as his cell, which was laying on the front seat, then followed his brother.

That night after work Cass was babysitting again for Nora. He had hoped Dean would text him, but knew that wouldn't happen. After all he hadn't replied to the pseudo-apology yet. Chelsie at work had explained what the pain in his chest meant. Either heartbreak or a heart attack. Secretly he hoped it was the latter.

Tanya cooed in his arms, and he tried his best to focus on her. "You won't let me down, will you?" Now that wasn't fair. Dean always did the best he could, had always been there for Cass even when Cass didn't deserve it. "I should give him a break, huh?" He swayed around the room, rocking the sleeping baby in his arms. She had really grown on him. It was odd feeling an attachment to such a small human. "They say 'time heals all wounds.' Hopefully it will help with this as well." Tanya was fast asleep, but he still talked. Getting things off his chest was nice, and by the time Nora returned he felt a little better. That is until he was about half way home.

"Hey handsome. Need a lift?" A familiar voice asked as it pulled up beside him


	3. Chapter 3

Cass's keys clanged against the table as he dropped them. He hadn't said a word since getting into the Impala, and being back in his hotel room didn't change this.

"Come on man. I said I was sorry." Dean didn't get a reply. "There was a hunt! Misguided ghost mommy giving some bullies permanent time outs. Ya know, important stuff."

"Work comes first. I understand." Cass mumbled. "I always understand."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing of import." Cass sighed. "I'm going to change. Help yourself to anything in the fridge."

"Don't see why you're so upset. I was stuck playing Dr Phil to a ten year old and his dead mom. It's not like I was on vacation." No sooner than Cass disappeared into the bathroom did Dean begin to rummage through what little food his friend had. "Besides, you're acting like it was a date or something."

"You're right." Cass answered from the other room. He was dressed, but staring at himself in the mirror. The fluorescent lights made him look pale, and pathetic. All of the disappointment was written on his face. "I overreacted. I'm good at that you know."

"Ya can say that again." The hunter smirked. "All ya got in here is leftovers, half a jug of milk and…. What the hell is this? Looks like peach slime?"

"Marmalade, actually. I've got peanut butter and jelly in the cabinet." Cass reemerged. "As well as plenty of salt."

"Only the essentials I take it."

"I didn't want to take advantage of your generosity."

Dean smiled. "Still, I was hoping for some beer, maybe some pizza….or pie."

"Chocolate ok?" Cass laughed, opening the freezer. "Needs to thaw, but it should still be good."

"Pie is pie."

"Chelsie at work made it the other day. I took this piece for yo….." He paused. "For later. In case I got hungry. But you're welcome to it."

"Hell yea! Cass you know, you're alright as a human." Dean clapped his friend on the back and walked toward the tv.

"Anything for the Winchesters." Cass mumbled, following behind a moment later.

"I take it this joint doesn't get Dish."

"Not exactly. Mostly local channels." The couch was big enough to fit them both but Cass took a seat on nearby chair. It was plastic and made his back hurt, definitely not his first choice but given the tension between them it seemed like the better one. "However I don't watch a lot of television. It still perplexes me."

"What is there not to get? You watch people do stuff. It's great."

"I've spent millennia doing just that." He looked from Dean to the t.v. "It was more interesting back then."

"So what do ya do then? Don't tell me you're a nerd like Sammy." The hunter scoffed.

"How is Sam?"

Dean grew quiet. The reason he drove all this way was because he needed to get away from his brother. It felt like he was suffocating while at the bunker, like the walls were closing in on him. And Sam? Sam had no idea. "He's good."

"Just 'good'? Dean…you can tell…"

"I said he's good." Dean interrupted.

Cass gave a soft sigh. Dean was never good at hiding things, not from him anyway. Even as a human he could see right through that tough guy façade. But his friend wasn't ready to talk, so he wouldn't push.

An action movie came on a few minutes later and the pair spent the night laughing at the horrible acting and the even worse fight scenes. More than once Dean mentioned how Bobby or even Ash could fight better. It was nice to spend time together, laugh like normal people do not worried about angels or demons. But Cass knew Dean would have to leave, go back to that life he leads that keeps them separated, and the pain in his chest would return.

The impala left the hotel around one the next morning taking Dean and Cass' happiness with it. Feigning sleep the former angel turned in once the movie was over but Dean wanted to catch the one that followed. Cass laid there listening to Dean's quiet laughter and smiled to himself. There was a time when their roles were reversed; Cass was the one unable to sleep and would keep watch over Dean, making sure the hunter was safe and unharmed. But the laughter trailed off, the t.v. grew quiet and once the purr of the impala faded away all that was left was Cass and his loneliness.

To be perfectly honest Dean didn't want to leave. Even though the movies sucked, and boy did they, he just... it was better than being at the bunker. He could look at Cass and know without a doubt it was _Cass_ looking back at him. There was no questioning motives, no wondering what was going on in the other person's head. And seeing Cass as a normal person, doing normal things it gave Dean some hope, made him happy in a way he didn't quite understand. It help him fell like perhaps it was a good thing keeping this distance between him. But he wouldn't deny just how much it hurt to leave his only friend behind.

The bunker was no welcome space. Once inside, after driving for hours mind you, Sam or maybe it was Zeke was all over Dean's case. Where was he? Why didn't he tell Sam/Zeke where he was or that he was leaving? We have a job ya know! All things Dean didn't want to hear and didn't have time for. He waved off his psudeo-brother and bee-lined it to his room, collapsed on his bed and slept for what felt like days.

The tension only built over the next few days. A few small jobs popped up but nothing they couldn't handle with ease. Sam was making more of an appearance now and that helped to lessen the stress hanging over Dean's head. He could breathe a little easier, and it felt nice.

Cass continued to text Dean daily, even though the sting was still. And every time Dean mentioned a hunt, or a new case, or new info on the fallen angels Cass would feel more and more helpless. Of all the new emotions he had that one was the worst. Knowing he was the reason for all of this pain and not being able to do a damn thing about it. He hated to admit it but he'd give up everything, including Dean, to make things right.


	4. Chapter 4

None of this he told Dean of course. He still hadn't redeemed himself in the hunter's eyes and he was afraid this knowledge would make things worse instead of show that he regretted the things he's done to both the angels and the two men in his charge. The absence of his friends began to take its toll. Daily tasks became mundane, meaningless. It finally dawned on Cass what Dean meant by his 'nuking nachos' comment a few months ago. Even now he felt that he had a higher purpose, it was just getting harder and harder to see. This brought the former angel no comfort however, only made his heart ache more. I never realized how fragile humans were he thought to himself (on more than) one still night, lying in bed and half listening to the news (one of the few shows he actually watched). The phone on the night stand chimed, pulling Cass from his semi sleep state. It was three in the morning, he would have to wake soon anyway and decided he might as well see what Dean needed. The t.v was still droning in the background but it's not what was grabbing his attention. Dean was angry, and more than likely drunk…again. The texts were screaming nonsense about the apocalypse, hell, angels, demons. Cass shook his head and tossed the phone aside. There was no use in replying, Dean would just ignore it and continue on his tirade. Besides it wasn't anything important, only things he's heard a million times before. It's not like he could help ease Dean's anger; they were states apart. Perhaps if he were at the bunker he could…. "But you're not. So stop thinking about it." Cass said aloud. He knew he should probably get up, the alarm would be going off in an hour or so. But his bed was so comfy. He decided to stay there a bit longer, going over the ever growing list of things he needed to accomplish later that day and trying to push the name Winchester far from his mind. A rapping at his door was what prompted Cass to finally get out of bed. "Just a moment." He called, pulling on a pair of faded jeans. No one should be here at this hour he thought to himself. The room was paid up for at least another month, and he wasn't late for work. Standing in his doorway was the familiar visage of his closest friend, once again without his brother. No explanation was given for Dean's sudden and unexpected visit. He just pushed passed Cass and collapsed face first on the bed. Cass attempted to wake the passed out hunter, ask him questions that required more than a simple yes or no answer, but his friend still lie there motionless. For a while the former angel sat watching his friend; wondering if he had fallen asleep. After all the hunter had been drinking, and only a handful of things would cause him to drink to this extent. So he must have been exhausted, either mentally or physically, by the time he showed up on Cass's doorstep. Still, Cass wondered why Dean decided to come here of all places. Surely the bunker or even a hotel room of his own would be a better place to sleep it off. Once Dean started snoring, affirming what the angel suspected, Cass decided to get ready and head to work. Normally he'd put everything on hold for Dean, but he was human now and didn't have that luxury anymore. If he didn't work he couldn't eat. Dean would just have to understand. Sun shone through the drawn curtains, stinging green eyes and causing the hung-over hunter to curse loudly. The clock on the nightstand told him it was earlier then he had thought, only ten thirty in the morning. "Sammy." He shouted, still a bit groggy. "Sammy? Turn down the sun it's too bright." After waiting for the response he'd never receive Dean sat up and looked around. "This….this isn't right." A second look around didn't help clear his head. The place was familiar, but he couldn't figure out where exactly he was. "Guess I'm not in Kansas anymore." A sharp pain shot through his head turning his vision white for a moment. "Damn, how much did I drink last night? And how the hell did I end up here?" Spotting his cell phone on the kitchen table he made his way there…very slowly. His head was pounding and it felt as if his stomach was doing cartwheels. Dean wasn't in the habit of getting hangovers. Usually he kept himself at a manageable level of 'only-drinking-enough-to-not-feel' and sometimes got to a nice 'tipsy-going-on-drunk'. However he only rarely let himself get carried away, for just this reason. Hangovers suck! "You can say that again." Flipping over his phone he scrolled through his texts. "Son of a bitch." They were to Cass…all of them were to Cass. Twenty six in total. And not one of them made a lick of sense. "Well that explains why this place rings a bell." But he still didn't know how he got here. Don't tell me I drove baby. One look out the window confirmed it. "Man I hope I didn't hurl." Dean tried getting in touch with the former angel but Cass was either busy or refusing to answer. Not that Dean would blame him for the latter, those texts were obnoxious. Drunk/angry Dean was not a pretty sight. At first Dean thought he'd just leave, bite the bullet and take the long drive back to Kansas. But there weren't any pressing matters; no jobs or even leads that needed to be followed up. Not to mention Sam was still spending most of his time sleeping or missing in action. So slacking off for the day sounded kind of nice. This was all a good idea, but man was it sucky in reality! There was nothing on t.v. Just some boring infomercials and a Dr Phil special on men that like to be squashed (which Dean will have nightmares about for weeks…..What? He was curious). After flicking off the t.v., and wondering loudly why the hell anyone would watch that show, he showered and searched for food. If his brain was functioning properly, a condition he blamed more on the horror he just witnessed and less on the alcohol, he would have remembered that there was no food at Cass' place. "Great." He sighed, leaning on the counter near the sink. "And I have no idea when Fly-boy will be back." Another loud sigh. "Man this sucks!" Not content with waiting around an empty hotel room for the aforementioned friend to return Dean grabbed his keys, slipped on his jacket and jumped in the Impala. 


End file.
